


like the stars that won’t turn off

by hyojong



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Café, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pentagon, and yuto is obsessed with them, coffee shop AU, hyunggu has real freckles, waiter yuto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 22:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15349950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyojong/pseuds/hyojong
Summary: Yuto is a flirty waiter to each of Hyunggu's dates. Chaos and love ensue.





	like the stars that won’t turn off

Yuto is only a tiny little bit, almost not late when he enters the restaurant through the backdoor. The kitchen is already buzzing with preparatory work, the chef barking out orders as everyone else moves around his in a well-oiled dance. Still thirty minutes until they open, plenty of time to get things in order.

Starting with switching off the Rain song that makes the pots in the kitchen rattle.

The song is a bad sign. It means that Hongseok’s in charge of the stereo – because Hongseok’s taste in music is that of a twelve-year old, seriously – and that Hyojong is not here yet. Hyojong would have put an end to this nonsense. Like, yesterday.

Yuto slaps hands and backs in passing, calling out greetings as he deftly weaves through the careful choreography that is the kitchen crew setting up for a standard Saturday night. Classic date night. It’s going to be busy, especially since the spring term is about to start and the combination of fancy atmosphere and reasonable prices means that most of their customers come from the nearby university. With exams only a distant threat on the horizon, it translates into less studying, more dating; after two years of working part-time at Hwitaek’s pizzeria, Yuto knows the drill. Also, he’s become a pro at judging the success chance of a date with just one look at the involved parties. He doesn’t like to brag, but truth is, he’s a master at predicting family emergencies.

Alright, he does like to brag.

He picks up the evening’s table plan with one hand and interrupts Rain with the other. The ensuing silence is broken by Hongseok’s, “I was listening to that.”

Not just listening, but also wiggling his hips to the beat, from what Yuto can tell. He counters with, “You call it music, I call it torture,” and scrolls through their playlists. ‘Don’t Leave Me **’** sounds like a fine choice of song. Yuto composed it himself, after all.

He puts it on, snatches up a tablecloth and ducks away from Hongseok’s attempt to tickle his stomach. “Tables to be set,” he declares in a stern voice. “Serious work, Hongseok. Act like it.”

Hongseok slaps Yuto's ass with a napkin.

 

 

 

Most of the time, Yuto is good with customers. Brilliant, even. In a show of generosity, he'd tried to share his wisdom with Hyojong, giving him pointers such as smile until your cheeks hurt and a funny comment cannot be a bad thing, ever. For some reason, Hyojong's enthusiasm had been rather limited, and admittedly, he's doing pretty well in the beer money department without following any of Yuto's tips. Must be the high cheekbones and abundant of blush dusting his cheeks.

Anyway.

The point is, Yuto is usually really good with customers. His only fault is that he also has a tendency to talk back when someone pisses him off, and there's this asshole in his section tonight, mid-forties and bossing his family about, claiming the wine is served at the wrong temperature when there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. It's either insult the guy or switch tables with Hongseok who's much more relaxed about these type of things.

Yuto catches Hongseok on the way into the kitchen, grabbing his wrist. “Save me.”

“I think it's a bit late for that,” Hyojong says in passing. Yuto ignores him, as any sensible person would.

“Switch me one of yours for Table 8, and I'll be your friend forever,” he tells Hongseok.

Hongseok considers it for a moment. “That, and you'll do the dishes next week.”

“What, yours too?”

“‘Course. And Hyojong’s.”

Mean. Hongseok is a mean flatmate. Mean and sneaky.

After a glance at Mister Better-Than-Thou, Yuto nods. It’s not as if they cook all that often at home; mostly, they eat in the university’s canteen, so rinsing a few glasses and cups seems like an acceptable trade if it means Yuto won’t lose his job over berating a guest for treating his family like property. Even if Hwitaek is a fair boss, he has rules about how to interact with customers, and something like that would get back to him sooner rather than later.

Yuto has this theory that Hwitaek has cameras hidden in the restaurant to ensure things are going his way. It has yet to be disproved.

Hongseok claps him on the shoulder. “Perfect. Then I’ll switch you for Twenty-One. They just arrived, so you can start by bringing them menus.”

The table in question shows two guys, which is interesting in itself. In addition, the one facing Yuto is attractive, about Yuto's age with shortly cropped brown hair and clean-cut features, broad shoulders filling out a button-up shirt. Nice. All Yuto sees of his companion is a mop of straight black hair almost covering his eyes.

Because Hongseok probably didn’t even notice that he’s giving Yuto an opportunity to enjoy a fine view, Yuto grumbles a complaint and takes his sweet time collecting two menus from the stack behind the bar.

He straightens his shirt before he approaches. The two guys are talking in lowered voices, heads bent towards each other, the conversation slow, but easy. No family emergencies in the foreseeable future.

“Hello, good evening,” Yuto says into a momentary lull. “My name’s Yuto, and I’ll be your waiter this evening.”

The guy with the brown hair glances up with a friendly smile, followed by the black-haired one twisting his head to look at Yuto and...

Oh, wow. Freckles.

Okay. Okay, so the brown-haired one is hot, yes, but his date is... is just pretty, so very pretty, kind of on a whole different level because freckles. Yuto maybe has a thing about freckles. Dark brown, wide eyes aren’t too bad either, and surely those carefully tousled strands are just begging for Yuto to bury his fingers in them.

Or not. Um. What with Yuto being the waiter to what is clearly a date, if the slightly dressed-up state of both guys is anything to go by.

Yuto blinks and looks away from Cutie’s (that’s his nick-name for now) blinding smile, addressing both of them as he hands the menus over. “Can I already get you something to drink?”

“Let’s start with a bottle of water?” The brown-haired one turns it into a question, one which Cutie answers with, “Sparkling, please.” His gaze rests on Yuto for what might be a moment too long, if Yuto is not imagining things. According to Hyojong, he’s doing that a lot, imagining things like having cleaned the bathroom or taken out the rubbish.  
  
He needs friends who embrace his little quirks, he does.  
  
"Coming right up," Yuto tells them. There is no reason for him to linger at the table, no reason beyond wanting to stay in the vicinity of those freckles, preferably within kissing distance. Yuto is a professional, though. Also, not fifteen.  
  
He leaves them to parse the menus and busies himself with other tables. By the time he returns to the two guys, it's to find Hyojong supplying the blue candle holder between them with a new tealight. His eyes are down-turned, lashes almost brushing his cheeks while both guys are openly staring at him. Damn, he's good. Yuto has to give him as much, and not an inch more.  
  
He watches Hyojong take their orders and waits for a chance to corner him behind the bar. "My table, you homewrecker."  
  
"Is it?" Hyojong raises an elaborate brow. "Sorry, must have missed the sign which had 'Property of Adachi Yuto's written on it."  
  
"You," Yuto jabs him in the chest, "are evil. Those two boys might have married, adopted kids. Or a dog, at least. Now they’ll just be thinking about your stupid pouty lips."  
  
"Thanks, I guess." Hyojong's grin is anything but repentant.  
  
"Evil," Yuto repeats.  
  
If anything, Hyojong's grin widens. "So it wasn't you staring at that one guy's freckles earlier, then?"  
  
A bell from the kitchen, indicating that someone's food is ready, cuts Yuto's elaborate line of defence short. He leaves it at, "My table. Go and find your own pair of hot guys.”

 

 

  
After that, it only gets busier. Yuto whirls from table to table, smiling, joking around with customers who've been here before, serving food and jotting down things and pouring wine and running credit cards and smiling, smiling. He doesn't have much time to let his gaze stray to the two guys, but from what he can tell, their date seems to be going just fine. They're laughing, exchanging small touches and looks, stealing from each other's plates. The dessert they settle on after much deliberation -- and with Yuto's magnanimous input -- is a still-warm slice of chocolate cake with two forks, indicating that a goodnight snog is a likely possibility.  
  
Unfortunately, they're not drinking alcohol, so Yuto doesn't get a chance to ask for IDs and put a name to the freckles. When they ask for the bill, they bicker amiably over who'll pay while Yuto pretends not to listen.  
  
"I asked you. You can pay next time," the brown-haired guy says, following it up with a shy smile that makes Yuto want to pat his cheek. Inexplicably, the corners of Cutie's mouth tug down a little, and he insists on splitting it evenly. Huh.

They pay in cash, so again, Yuto doesn’t learn any names. Not that he was going to, like, Facebook-stalk the freckles or anything. Mere curiosity.

He hands them their respective change with a genuine, “Enjoy the rest of your night, guys,” grinning at them. It earns him a smile from the brown-haired guy and a slow, “Thank you, Yuto,” from Cutie.

Yuto would love to know whether the bedroom voice is Cutie’s default way of speaking, but he’s smart enough not to ask. Instead, he settles on, “Thank you guys for the tip. And for remembering my name, few customers do.”

“Really?” Cutie sounds surprised.

Yuto lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. “At least not if they’re here on a date. Means they mostly just have ears and eyes for each other, nerves and all.” A moment too late, his brain catches up with his mouth. “Which is not to say that you guys didn’t have eyes only for each other.”

A second of silence follows, then the brown-haired guy tilts his head back for a laugh. He has a nice laugh. So does Cutie, and Yuto is decidedly not registering any details such as crinkles in the corners of his eyes or--details like that, yes. Not noticing.

“Smooth save,” the brown-haired guy says, still a trace of laughter in his voice as he gets up. His eyes flit across the table, soften just slightly. “Shall we, Hyunggu?”

Hyunggu. Yuto files it away for future reference.

Hyunggu almost knocks his chair over in his haste to get up. They both wish him a good night, endearing themselves further to Yuto, before they weave their way towards the door. The brown-haired guy -- who still doesn’t have a name -- rests his fingers low on Hyunggu’s back, his hand broad on Hyunggu’s narrow waist. They make a pretty pair.

“Pining?” Hongseok asks, sneaking up behind Yuto.

“Admiring the view,” Yuto corrects. He turns with a grin. “I was just thinking, my next boyfriend needs to have freckles.”

“You should hold auditions,” Hongseok says seriously.

“Maybe I will.” Yuto sketches an ad into the air. “‘Wanted: Single M with freckles, under twenty-five, must enjoy bad TV programmes and long walks on the beach. Sought by single M, fit and with a sense of humour.’”

“You don’t actually take long walks on the beach,” Hyojong puts in helpfully. Out of the three of them, he’s the only one who is at least pretending to be working right now, picking up the empty glasses left behind by Hyunggu and his date.

“That’s because we don’t have a beach here,” Yuto says. “If we did, I’d totally be walking on it. All day long.”

Hongseok nods. “Twice a year, like.”

On the periphery of his vision, Yuto catches movement, a guest trying to get his attention. “I’m disinheriting you both,” he informs Hyojong and Hongseok. “Remind me why I got you a job here?”

“Actually, it was me getting you a job here,” Hyojong says.

Yuto waves a hand. “Semantics. And anyway, I was the one who got Hyo in. And I let you in on our search for a flat to share.”

“Is this the part where I’m grateful?” Hyojong elevates dry sarcasm to a form of art.

“Yuto should be grateful we didn’t question that he described himself as ‘fit’ in his imaginary ad,” Hongseok says.

Yuto sticks his tongue out at both of them before he trots toward the guest who’d signalled him a moment before. Tables to wait on, customers to serve. No rest for the wicked. But hey, it pays the rent.

 

 

 

Thursday nights are traditionally slow. It's just Shinwon and Yuto on table duty today, and when he asks his to cover his section for a few minutes so he can get some fresh air, he gestures for him to go ahead. Yuto tugs off his tie before he slips outside, staying under the awning so as not to be soaked by the rain which had set in a short while ago.

Times like these make him consider a smoke. It seems as if it would fit the scene, the orange glow of a cigarette while people hurry by on the road, huddled under umbrellas or bending their heads against the downpour, steps swallowed by the rush of the water.

Shame about the stench of cold cigarette smoke.

Yuto pulls out his phone and checks his messages, replying to Hongseok worrying about the contents of their fridge. (‘Stop it okay ? We got enough bacon left for breakfast’) He’s just sliding the phone back into his pocket when someone ducks under the awning next to him. The person in question resembles a drowned cat, wet hair plastered to his head.

It takes Yuto a moment to place the face, and then he laughs. “Not a believer in raincoats, then?”

“Optimist, more like. I was hoping the forecast was misled.” Hyunggu shakes out his hair, pushing it away from his face, before he turns to look at Yuto. “Oh, hi. Yuto, right?”

Yuto must be staring rather openly, but no one can blame him, really. It would be too much to ask him not to stare, what with Hyunggu’s shirt sticking to his chest and all, gaping open at the front to reveal collarbones. They’re nice collarbones.

Hyunggu seems to misinterpret the silence because he huffs out a quiet laugh. “Sorry, you probably don’t recognise me. I was here a few days ago.”

“I remember,” Yuto tells him. He’s clever and doesn’t add that he remembers Hyunggu’s freckles in particular. “Saturday, right? Back so soon? We got you hooked, man.”

“I’m only here for the chocolate cake.” Hyunggu’s mouth quirks up in a bright grin, showing a row of even teeth. He should be in an advertisement for toothpaste, seriously. “And I’m Hyunggu, by the way.” His right hand extends, and Yuto shakes it with a laugh, Hyunggu’s damp fingers slippery in his grip, skin cold.

“Look at that. Your mother certainly raised you right.”

“Hey, no talking about my mother,” Hyunggu protests. Yuto raises both hands in a pacifying gesture.

“No disrespect intended. I am awed by mothers who manage to raise kids with manners. Mine failed, though my siblings are turning out fine, I guess.”

Hyunggu squints at him as if trying to figure him out. Ha, good luck with that. Yuto changes gears. “So how come I haven’t seen you here before?”

Once again, Hyunggu shakes out his hair and shoves it to one side. It seems to be a habit of his. “I only moved here a few months ago, to start university.”

About twenty, then. Good to know. Not that Yuto thought Hyunggu might be under seventeen, but with a face like that, all boyish charm, well, better be sure. Just... in case. Or something.

Through the slightly foggy glass, Yuto catches sight of Shinwon waving to him from inside the pizzeria. All work, all the time, what a tough life. He nods at Hyunggu. “You coming in with me?”

“Nah. I hear it’s polite to wait outside until your date arrives. It’s better tact than to follow the hot waiter inside, isn’t it?” Another one of those perfect smiles flashes, and Hyunggu must be aware of its devastating power. No way is he even half as innocent as he appears.

Yuto isn’t one to refuse a compliment, though. He smiles back because it’s impossible not to, and also because there isn’t a good reason to fight it in the first place. “I consider myself thoroughly flattered. Keep it up and I’ll sneak you an extra slice of cake.”

“That was my plan all along,” Hyunggu says.

“It’s working,” Yuto assures him, pointing his thumb at the entrance. “See you in a few, don’t talk to strangers and remember to call your mum.”

The sound of the rain, mingled with a short burst of laughter from Hyunggu, follows Yuto inside.

 

 

 

To Yuto's surprise, it turns out that Hyunggu’s date bears no resemblance to the guy he’d been with on Saturday. While not bad-looking, this one’s a step down compared to the previous one, features a bit too angular and mouth too narrow.

Not that it’s any of Yuto's business.

It not being his business does, of course, not mean that Yuto keeps his mouth shut. Where would be the fun in that? He takes advantage of Hyunggu’s date making a trip to the loo, approaching the table under the pretense of topping up their wine glasses.

“You know,” he tells Hyunggu in an undertone, winks to show that he’s kidding, “if you continue bringing your dates here, I’ll start a rating system.”

“Oh?” Hyunggu leans back and gives him a smile that’s as slow and sweet as his voice. “So what's the verdict?”

“Hmm.” Yuto pretends to think about it while filling the glass of Hyunggu’s date up to its broadest section. The red wine catches a spark of light. “A six,” Yuto answers Hyunggu’s question. “I liked the first one better. He’d be an eight, verging on nine.”

Hyunggu tilts his head. “Changgu, you mean?”

Yuto moves around the table, brushing against Hyunggu’s shoulder as he leans in to reach Hyunggu’s glass. The cloth of Hyunggu’s shirt is still damp from the rain. “I suppose? The one from Saturday. Fluffy black hair, perfect teeth, nice lips, good body.”

“Changgu,” Hyunggu confirms. “And that’s totally not creepy.”

“Sparkly vampires are creepy. I just pay attention.”

“You are random.”

“It’s a gift.” Yuto grins and Hyunggu grins back. Just for a moment, Yuto forgets that he should at least pretend to be working.

Setting the bottle of wine down, he busies himself with straightening up the tablecloth, checking on the candlelight. Hyunggu’s eyes, the brown lightened by the shaded light in the room, watch him with amusement still lingering in their corners.

“So,” Yuto asks because he’s never been good at not acting on his curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, true, but until then, the cat probably had a grand ol’ time. “What happened with the last guy? You two seemed to get along just fine.”

“Yeah, just.” Hyunggu lifts both shoulders and ruffles his hair up with one hand. “We figured out we had different expectations, is all.”

“Oh?” Before Yuto can inquire further -- not that he should -- he catches sight of Hyunggu’s date returning. He excuses himself with another wink and a, “Well, better luck this time.”

Mostly, he means it.

 

 

 

With one hand in the back pocket of Number Two’s jeans, Hyunggu glances back over his shoulder to give Yuto a parting grin. Somehow, he manages to make it endearing rather than lewd. Maybe he could give Yuto lessons sometime.

“You’re staring,” Shinwon says into his ear. He sounds much more gleeful than the situation warrants, and Yuto cringes when he remembers the teasing he’d had to endure when he had a crush on one of their regulars, a few months ago. Payback is a bitch.

“I,” Yuto says, all dignity, “am wiping the counter down.” He raises a dishrag in proof. “See? This is me, wiping.”

Shinwon leans against his shoulder, tilting his head appreciatively towards Hyunggu. “He’s pretty. Who is he?”

Dropping the rag, Yuto dries his hands on a towel before slinging an arm around Shinwon’s waist. “Remember when you had a crush on Wooseok and I showed admirable restraint?”

“No,” he says pointedly.

“Yes.” Yuto sighs. “Me neither.”

They’re silent for a moment while Hyunggu’s date opens the door for both of them, letting in a rush of cool air and the scent of rain. It falls shut with a soft tinkle of bells. “Nerd fact,” Yuto says. “Rain doesn’t actually smell, it’s just that our sense of smell works better with moisture.”

“Nice try changing topics.” Shinwon snorts and pauses for a moment, glancing around the few tables still occupied. “Crush, huh?”

Yuto rewinds their conversation until he arrives at... oh, right, the reference to his crush on Wooseok. “For the record, this is not a crush. I drew a faulty parallel.” In time with the music, Yuto taps his thumb and forefinger against Shinwon’s hip. The current song belongs to a collection of Italian classics Yuto could mouth along with by now, even though he doesn’t speak a word of Italian.

“Not a crush?” Shinwon purses his lips.

“He’s bringing his dates here, Wonnie. Given the circumstances, a crush wouldn’t make much sense, would it?”

“Oh, honey.” The endearment holds a note of pity. “A crush isn’t supposed to make sense. That’s the best bit.”

“No, thanks. I’m appreciating a perfectly lovely thing when I see one.” Yuto nudges their shoulders together. “That’s all I’m doing.”

“Okay.” Shinwon turns his head to smirk at him. All those blokes who come in because they think his both hot and sweet have never seen his smirk, or they’d be running for the hills. “So,” he says, voice wry. “You got a full name when you checked their IDs, then?”

Useless information, part twenty-eight: Hyunggu’s full name is Kang Hyunggu, and he’ll turn twenty in about a month.

Yuto straightens. “I'm sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“Yes. Of course you don't.” His voice is perfectly even. “Because you’re always this adamant about having to check IDs when we usually don’t give a shit.”

Busted. “I thought I’d start a trend. We should stop shying away from our responsibility to society.”

Shinwon lets a beat pass before he nods, his tone understanding. “Just let me know, okay?” He points towards the notebook, open on the counter, which allows them to control the music and check their e-mails when business is slow.

Yuto knows he shouldn’t take the bait, but, “Let you know what?”

“Let me know if you need some privacy to worship at the shrine of Saint Zuckerberg, patron of stalkers around the world.”

“You are mean,” Yuto tells his. When he starts giggling, he manages to keep a straight face for a full three seconds before he laughs as well.

Really, though, it’s not as if he’s actually going to stalk Hyunggu on Facebook.

 

 

 

All twelve-hundred pages of Smith & Hogan’s Criminal Law hit the floor with a satisfying thud. Yuto rolls onto his back, stuffs a pillow under his head and tells the duvet, “I hate all my modules.”

He needs hot chocolate. Hot chocolate could be the key to world peace, as far as Yuto is concerned.

As it turns out, Hongseok’s gulping down the last of their milk straight from the bottle when Yuto comes into the kitchen. Cheeks bulging, Hongseok tips his head back and makes a gurgling offer to share his mouth’s contents.

“Sometimes,” Hyojong comments from the kitchen table, “I wonder in what kind of reality Hongseok is the only messy person in this flat.”

Hongseok swallows and grins. “I’m comfortable with my preferences, thank you very much.”

“That’s nice, but it won’t give me hot chocolate,” Yuto says. He moves to take a look at the sketch Hyojong is currently working on, sheets of paper spread haphazardly around him where he’s taking advantage of the rare afternoon sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window. From what Yuto can tell, the sketch amounts to a design for another tattoo and is thus a certain indicator that Hyojong is trying to motivate himself for an essay. He hates those almost as much as Yuto hates Law.

Yuto grabs Hyojong’s computer and straddles a chair while Windows wakes out of its standby mode. “Whatcha doing?” Hyojong asks, glancing over at the Facebook page Yuto just pulled up.

“Posting porn under your name.” Yuto hits the logout link and switches over to his own account. Typing ‘Kang Hyunggu’ into the search bar returns several results, but only one of them comes with fluffy black hair and the information that they have one mutual friend.

Yuto puts all blame on Shinwon and checks out Hyunggu’s public profile. There isn’t much, smart boy, but it does reveal that their mutual friend is Yanan. Hmm. Wasn’t there an invitation to some house party in Yuto'ss notifications a couple of days ago?

“Hey.” Yuto snaps his fingers. “Who’s up for a party this Saturday?”

“Got a date,” Hongseok says. Yes, now that he mentions it, Yuto remembers Hongseok talking about it. A lot. He and Jinho have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks, using their friends as shields, so them going to see a movie together is indeed a huge step in the right direction.

“Hyojong? You’re not working on Saturday, are you?”

Hyojong’s pen pauses above the paper. “Whose party is it?”

“Yanan’s.” Yuto turns the notebook for Hyojong to read the invitation.

“The guy running the university radio?” Hongseok asks. He’s rifling through the fridge with the air of someone on a treasure hunt, his voice muffled behind the door. “Thought you hadn’t been to the station in ages?”

Yuto pulls his left foot up onto his chair and drapes both arms around his knee. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go to his party, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t.” Hongseok’s tone is still suspicious. It seems he didn’t find anything tasty enough to distract him.

“So, Hyojong.” Yuto nudges Hyojong with his right foot. “You with me? Free alcohol, buddy. That should be enough of a reason, right?”

Hyojong leans back and draws his brows together as if going through a mental list of tasks he has yet to complete. Sometimes Yuto wishes Hyojong weren’t so sensible about his studies. It makes Yuto look even worse in comparison.

“Come on,” he needles and Hyojong laughs, shrugs.

“Alright, why not?”

 

 

 

When Hyunggu arrives at the party, Changgu close behind, Yuto is camped out in the kitchen, entertaining a bunch of people he knows from when he used to be a regular at the station. Hyojong is standing next to him, quiet and smiling while sipping a nasty concoction of Red Bull and vodka. As usual, Hyojong manages to attract more than his fair share of interested looks without actually doing anything to earn it.

If Yuto didn’t love him so much, he’d hate him for how effortless he makes it seem.

“Excuse me,” Yuto tells his audience. He hops down from the kitchen counter, careful not to spill his drink, and grabs Hyojong’s wrist to tow him in Hyunggu’s direction. On second thought, it’s possibly not such a smart move to bring Hyojong into this, or at least it wouldn’t be if Yuto were seriously interested in Hyunggu.

Which he isn’t. He just likes that Hyunggu has freckles and is astonishingly pretty, and also that he’s easy to talk to and always willing to be amused by Yuto's comments. That’s all.

Hyunggu must have caught sight of Yuto because he’s waiting with his hands in his pockets, grinning. Next to him, Changgu is wearing a slightly overwhelmed expression. It might be caused by the group of people currently disassembling Yanan’s freezer.

“Hey,” Hyunggu yells before Yuto has even reached him, voice barely carrying over the music and general level of noise. “Didn’t expect to see you here. You’re not stalking me, are you?” His tone shows that he’s kidding.

“I am.” Yuto has found that hiding in plain sight is often the best course of action. “Put a tracker in your hair when you weren’t looking. I figured it would be years before you’d find it.” To Changgu, he says, “Nice to see you again.”

Different expectations? Hmm.

Changgu apparently needs a second to make the connection, then his eyes light up. “Oh, hey, you’re the one who served us at the pizzeria, aren’t you? How are you?”

Fucking hell, he’s hot and nice. Here’s hoping Hyunggu isn’t cheating with Number Two behind Changgu’s back because that would put Yuto in a slightly awkward position. He doesn’t think Hyunggu is the kind of person to two-time because Hyunggu is the kind of person who remembers the name of a waiter, but, well. You never know. You just never, ever know.

“I’m good,” Yuto says. “How about you?” Subtly, he tugs Hyojong forward and to his side. The way Changgu’s eyes widen when they fall on Hyojong dissipates Yuto's worry; if Changgu is looking like that at someone other than Hyunggu, things between them can’t be too serious.

“Great.” Changgu sounds a little breathless. “I’m great, yes.”

Hyojong’s lips curl into a smile. He’s staring back at Changgu. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Changgu echoes. “You, um. You work at the restaurant, too, don’t you?”

Hyojong’s smile widens, becomes this bright, beaming thing that he doesn’t share with the world nearly often enough. Yuto watches in fascination as a blush spreads over Changgu’s cheeks.

Jesus, they couldn’t be more obvious if they tried.

Yuto raises a brow at Hyunggu. Hyunggu tilts his head, glances from Hyojong to Changgu and then back at Yuto. He appears to be biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a grin, his voice choked. “Hey, Yuto? Wanna go... somewhere else?”

“I’d love to,” Yuto assures him. “Somewhere less... less here, maybe. Like, elsewhere. That sounds good. Yes. Let’s do that.”

He isn’t sure Changgu and Hyojong even register the hurried note to the “See you later” which Hyunggu squeezes out before dragging Yuto off, Hyunggu’s fingers tight around Yuto's elbow. As soon as they’re out of earshot, they take one look at each other and burst out laughing.

 

 

 

"This," Hyunggu points a thumb in the general direction of where they left Hyojong and Changgu, "is what I get for being a good friend and forcing Changgu away from studying on a Saturday night. I feel abandoned.” He pauses, pout caught by the fairy lights illuminating the balcony. “Share your drink with me.”

"You're not cute," Yuto informs him, pressing the cup against his own chest for protection.

"I am," Hyunggu protests. "Everyone says so."

"Everyone," Yuto says with great weight, "is wrong."

Without warning, Hyunggu darts in to kiss the corner of Yuto's mouth, nothing more than a feathery brush of his lips against Yuto's skin. Hyunggu pulls back with a wide smile, creases around the corners of his eyes, and reaches out to wrap his fingers around Yuto's wrist, tugging both Yuto and the drink closer.

"Please?"

Yuto blinks, then he laughs and allows Hyunggu to take a sip. "You're shameless, aren't you?"

Hyunggu grins up at him from beneath lowered lashes. It might be a good moment to ask what happened to Number Two, whether Yuto would be better off dismissing the kiss as nothing but Hyunggu being friendly -- which would be fine, Yuto sometimes kisses people just to make them feel better, too. Of course, he usually aims for the cheek.

Demanding an explanation seems like too much of a hassle, so Yuto doesn’t.

For a couple of minutes, they're quiet, leaning against the banister and passing Yuto's cup back and forth as they observe the dancers in the living room. Some people Yuto doesn't know are huddled together a few steps to their right, the scent of their cigarettes wafting over. The music, muted by the glass, swells each time someone opens the balcony door.

"So," Yuto asks, nudging Hyunggu's shoulder with his own, "how do you know Yanan, then?"

"I’m at the university station sometimes." Hyunggu's fingers are cold when he hands the cup back to Yuto. It's a warm night for January, relatively speaking, but that doesn’t make it warm enough to spend a length of time outside without a jacket.

"As a presenter?" Yuto could imagine Hyunggu at the microphone, his low voice wrapping around listeners like smoke. And alright, Yuto might want to slow down on the alcohol. Just a bit.

"Tech support." Hyunggu moves a little closer and tilts his head at Yuto, smile soft. "I really like pushing the right buttons, tweaking things until they just work."

Yuto catches himself staring at Hyunggu's mouth before he shakes it off. Jesus. "You're a menace." It comes out with a hint of admiration because hey, Yuto appreciates good technique when he sees it.

Hyunggu grabs the cup back to toast Yuto, grinning around the rim. After taking another sip, he asks, "What about you, how did you meet Yanan?"

"Same as you, although I haven’t been at the station in a while." Yuto turns around to prop his elbows on the banister, looking out at the busy street below, at neon signs vying for attention. “I used to do a weekly show in my first year, great fun, but I didn’t have time anymore when I started serving pizza. Better for my wallet, though.”

“You're a student, too?” Hyunggu sounds surprised.

“Law.” Yuto nods, glancing over to find Hyunggu watching him with a puzzled frown, as if in the process of working something out. “The pizzeria is part-time. What, you thought I wasn’t smart enough?”

“No!” Hyunggu looks genuinely shocked at the idea, repeats with marginally less emphasis, “No. You think I’m an asshole who believes all waiters are dumb? When maybe they just don’t want to go to university? Seriously?” He seems young all of a sudden.

Yuto shakes his head, brushing Hyunggu’s wrist with his fingertips as he retrieves the cup again. “No, Hyunggu, I don’t think you’re an asshole. As I said, hardly anyone bothers to remember a waiter’s name, so as far as I’m concerned, you’re a good person.” The drink leaves a layer of sweetness in Yuto's mouth, the burn of the rum muted, an afterthought. “Just wondering why you were so surprised by me being a student.”

“Well, you seemed really... happy. As a waiter, I mean.” Hyunggu waves a hand in a gesture that probably isn’t supposed to mean much of anything. “Like you enjoy it a lot, talking to everyone, doing something where you get to make people feel welcome.”

It’s true, Yuto supposes. He’d chosen to study law for similar reasons, because it would mean he’d get to hear people’s stories, because he’d be in a position to make them feel better, reassured. Or, in cases such as a father not wanting to pay maintenance, tell them off for being bad human beings. That, too.

“So what you're saying,” Yuto points at his own chest, “is that I'm the best waiter ever.”

Hyunggu’s concerned expression melts into a smile; in fact, Yuto is starting to believe that Hyunggu is never more than a tenth of a second from smiling. “Something like that,” Hyunggu says. He tips the cup over to show that it’s empty, pushing away from the banister. "Another?”

“Absolutely,” Yuto says.

“I'll get it, for a change. You wait here.” Hyunggu gives Yuto a stern look and takes a small step back. “Don’t move.”

Yuto wraps both arms around himself, not quite enough to feel warm. He does like it out here, though, loves that it feels intimate despite them being far from alone. Dancing, being in the thick of things, is fun and he loves it, but parties happen all the time. How often does he get the chance to talk to a funny, smart and stunningly lovely boy, a boy with freckles, who seems to want to talk to Yuto just as much?

Yeah, it’s not a difficult choice.

“Actually,” Yuto moves to follow, “I’ll get us an additional layer of warmth, how about it? Coats or blankets or something.”

Hyunggu beams and gives him two thumbs up. “I like the way you think.”

 

 

 

Wrapped up in Hyojong’s jacket, a stranger’s scarf slung several times around his neck, Hyunggu is straddling the ridge of the roof. His long fingers are gripping a bottle of wine, and there’s something insanely hot about his current state of disarray combined with the fact that he’s studying to become a doctor.

A doctor. Heh. A doctor and a lawyer. Honourable. They’re totally compatible, like... Bonnie and Clyde, Romeo and Juliet, and why does everyone die in those examples? Yuto's gaze tracks the steep slope of the roof down to the far-below pavement and oh, hey, yeah, no dying. That wouldn’t be fun.

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the mild haze, Yuto pries the wine out of Hyunggu’s fingers, gestures between them with the bottleneck. “Look at us, Hyunggu. Future doctor and future lawyer, all serious and respectable, sitting on a roof.”

“It was your idea to climb up here,” Hyunggu points out. “I just followed your lead. Also, I doubt you ever take anything seriously.” He bumps his foot against the tiles for emphasis, grinning as he shakes some hair out of his eyes. His cheeks might be a bit flushed, but it it’s hard to tell in the distant glow of the balcony lights below.

“Not true,” Yuto says with a delay. “Some stuff I do take seriously. I just refuse to take things seriously which really aren’t, if you take a step back.”

“Well, don’t take a step back right now.” Hyunggu gestures at the drop, everything about him happy and bright and open. Which, Yuto isn’t sure that even makes sense. He shrugs and takes only a small sip of wine, letting it roll around his mouth for a few moments before swallowing it down.

“Hey, Hyunggu?” He likes the way it sounds, fun alliteration, thinks about following it up with hey, hey, Hyunggu, hey, but he isn’t actually that drunk.

“Hey, Yuto?” Hyunggu returns. The breeze has made a mess of his hair, the previous, artfully tousled look having made room for just tousled, nothing artful about it anymore. Yuto is almost certain that if he reached out to touch, Hyunggu would lean into it. His chest hurts a little.

Looking away, up at the dark sky, Yuto tightens his grip on the cool bottle. He considers what he was going to ask, remembers how Hyojong and Changgu had their heads bent together when he passed them earlier on his way to grab coats for Hyunggu and himself. Hyojong doesn’t usually fall this fast.

“I know it’s not...” Yuto licks his lips and thinks he sees Hyunggu’s gaze flick down. “It’s not really my business, but Hyojong is one of my best friends. And you said something about things with Changgu not working out. Like, you’re friends now?”

“Changgu’s great.” Hyunggu is silent for several seconds, his expression still open and content, but thoughtful now. “We just had a bit of a misunderstanding. Things were awkward for a minute, and then we put a movie on. So,” he nods, smiling, “it’s all good.”

“A misunderstanding,” Yuto repeats. “What does that mean?” He passes the bottle back to Hyunggu and shifts, the coldness of the tiles beginning to seep through his jeans.

“About where it was heading.” Hyunggu takes a swig, wipes his mouth and shrugs, meeting Yuto's eyes. “Thing is, I’m not looking for a relationship right now. It's just...” He balances the bottle on the very ridge of the roof and lets go, ready to catch it the moment it threatens to topple over. His tone is wistful. “I'm from a small village, about this big.” Raising his hand, he holds thumb and forefinger a hair’s width apart. “I was out, yes, but it’s not as if it made much of a difference. There wasn't a scene. When I moved here, it felt...”

He trails off, and Yuto finishes for him. “Like being free for the first time. I remember.”

Hyunggu’s gaze snags to him. “You do?”

Yuto nods. “I was the same for a while, yes. Taking full advantage of my new freedom, running around being...” Bloody useless and the world’s worst randomly assigned roommate ever, according to Hyojong. Somehow, their friendship grew strong regardless. “Being wild, I suppose.”

“Past tense?” Hyunggu catches the bottle just in time and offers it to Yuto. “So you’re looking for a relationship now?”

Yuto lifts one shoulder. “Not all that actively, but yes.”

“Oh, okay. That’s cool.” Hyunggu ruffles his hair with both hands and gives Yuto a smile that showcases his right dimple. Cool, yes. Cool. They’re cool.

Yuto smiles back and doesn’t wonder what Hyunggu’s skin tastes like under the shell of his ear. They’re in different phases of their lives right now. Yuto can respect that. He wants to lick all lingering traces of wine out of Hyunggu’s mouth, but he won’t. It would be stupid to throw away what could be a perfectly wonderful friendship in favour of an ill-advised one-nighter.

Stupid is so yesterday.

 

 

 

By the time Yuto makes it out of bed, noon has come and gone. The flat lies silent, but there’s a pot of lukewarm tea on the table and a small mans jacket is draped over one of the kitchen chairs. Good for Hongseok.

Yuto pours himself a cup of tea and retreats back into his room. Brushing his teeth, washing his face, everything that requires any kind of effort, will just have to wait until he wakes up properly. Checking his e-mails is about as good as it gets, right now.

He scrolls through his new messages. Spam, spam, a note from his sister, spam, something related to a module, his mother, two friend requests from Facebook. One of them is from Hyunggu and Yuto accepts it without a second’s hesitation, taking a moment to scroll through the pictures now accessible to him. Most of them are ridiculous, Hyunggu goofing off with mates, beaming at the camera with a scarf draped around his head, one picture that must have been taken during a skiing holiday. It’s the kind of selection Yuto would have expected, yet he still finds himself lingering.

Pointedly, he closes the picture gallery and leaves a cryptic ‘I climb way up to the top of the stairs’ on Hyunggu’s wall.

The second friendship request turns out to be from Jaehyun, one of the guys he used to know from the university radio. It comes with a note. ‘Nice catching up with you! If you’re around, I often work the morning shift at the Starbucks on campus. I can give you extra sprinkles!’

Yuto grins and accepts the request without bothering to check Jaehyun’s page.

Hyunggu’s reply arrives just minutes later. ‘On the roof, it's peaceful as can be,’ he writes, and Yuto assumes he used Google to make sense of Yuto's statement. Yuto is thinking about countering with another line of lyrics, but his phone beeps before he gets around to it.

The message is from Hyunggu, and right, Yuto has a shady memory of them exchanging numbers last night before drifting apart; Yuto dragging an unusually talkative Hyojong home while Hyunggu must have either taken care of Changgu or found himself some company for the night. Yuto isn’t bitter about the second possibility.

‘Thanks for entertaining me last night,’ is what Hyunggu’s text message says. ‘It was great fun.’

Grimacing at the taste of cold tea, Yuto waits a minute before he replies. ‘Yeah, made me feel like I was on top of the roof !’

‘Idiot :)’

It doesn’t require a reaction from Yuto, not really, but he writes back anyway. ‘Word of advice: don’t listen to anything Hyojong tells Changgu about me its all lies’

A crash in the lounge, followed by a giggle that is decidedly too high for either Hongseok or Hyojong, makes Yuto get up and move towards the door. Then he pauses. On second thought, maybe he doesn’t want to know. Ignorance is bliss, yes, and he’s seen enough of Hongseok’s naked bum to last him a lifetime. He’d rather read Hyunggu’s answer.

‘Somehow I doubt that’

Before Yuto gets a chance to defend himself, a second text arrives.

‘Hey, you free for lunch tomorrow?’

Tomorrow starts with a Law lecture at nine in the morning. Yuto could use something to look forward to, and lunch with Hyunggu sounds like the perfect way to brighten up a Monday, any Monday.

‘Absolutely, name the time and place !’

 

 

 

Lunch mostly consists of making fun of Changgu and Hyojong for not exchanging phone numbers and thus utterly failing at life in general and dating in particular. Yuto had never thought he’d see the day when Hyojong needed help getting a boy.

In order to save them from their own stupidity, Yuto and Hyunggu agree on a Harry Potter marathon at Yuto's place which ends with Hongseok and Jinho disappearing halfway through the first film while Hyojong and Changgu sneak glances and soft-spoken comments. Yuto and Hyunggu spend most of their time trying to outdo one another at impersonating Snape, uttering phrases like “Bewitch the mind” and “People will think you’re up to something” at random intervals.

Once the end credits are playing, Yuto pushes up from the sofa to replenish their snacks. Hyunggu follows him, leaning his hip against the doorframe and watching Yuto with wide, hopeful eyes. Yuto manages to ignore him. For about five seconds.

“What do you want?”

“To ensnare your senses,” Hyunggu intones.

Yuto narrows his eyes. “You’re not getting one of my mum’s biscuits. I had to defend them against Hongseok’s grabby hands, I’ll defend them against yours, too.”

His declaration is met with the saddest puppy dog eyes known to mankind. Yuto should be immune; he lives with both Hongseok and Hyojong. Somehow, Hyunggu takes it to a new level of irresistible.

“The puppy impression doesn’t work on me,” Yuto says. “Take it away.”

Hyunggu tries for a low whine, scrunching up his nose. It isn’t even a tiny little bit adorable, not at all.

Really.

“One,” Yuto tells him.

Hyunggu dashes forward to lick Yuto's cheek before Yuto has time to react. Laughing, Yuto pushes him away, presses his palm flat against Hyunggu’s chest to keep him at a safe distance while Hyunggu gives him a toothy smile.

“Ever thought about doing a toothpaste ad?” Yuto asks.

Hyunggu stares at him for a moment before he guffaws, mirth reducing his eyes to small, glittering slits. He’s by far and most the prettiest thing Yuto has ever seen. Fortunately, Yuto is not eighteen anymore and has thus learned not to let desire get in the way of rational thinking.

One day, he might just thank Hwitaek for a lesson well taught.


End file.
